


Praetor

by Mathen57



Series: Mathen's Drabble/Snippet/Oneshot Emporium [2]
Category: Warhammer 40.000, 幼女戦記 | Youjo Senki | Saga of Tanya the Evil (Manga)
Genre: Grimdark, Misunderstandings, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathen57/pseuds/Mathen57
Summary: In an act of spite, Being X sends Tanya into a universe devoid of rationality and modern decency. There is no progress, no respite from endless turmoil, only war.
Series: Mathen's Drabble/Snippet/Oneshot Emporium [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209692
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Praetor

**Author's Note:**

> This draft is rough and not so canon compliant, so consider this as my attempt to nail down the voice, tone, setting, etc...
> 
> Also, here's a custom codex : https://ibb.co/KjDn8tW

I should have seen my expiration coming. The Empire could not adapt fast enough to win a "world war". Stretched thin while Supreme Command's staff officers became mired in confusion after Zettour's "promotion". It didn't help that the civilian government pushed to lengthen the war to justify its cost. That the cost to achieve the victories the army eked out had exceeded its benefits seemed to have been ignored. They should've sued for peace when the war became unsustainable, and I should've jump ship when they chose to keep pushing. The curtains of insanity had been drawn, as fear and hatred demolished the Empire's crumbling fortress of rationality. By the time I realized it, a precision spell had gone through my cranium. 

No matter, dwelling on the should'ves and would'ves is a waste of time. It would be more productive to think of lessons to learn from my second life and correct errors in my methodology. Let's see...I had been a victim of an irrational impulse in my first life and learned to be more careful in my second. I surrounded myself with body shields, drilled them into sensible and effective subordinates, and earned the admiration of my more reasonable superiors. 

But most importantly, I achieved results. All so I can live a comfortable life after the war. Was that what got me killed then? Signalling Theory only concerns two parties; in this case, I (the sender) signal the general staff (the receiver) that I'm worthy of having more resources to protect me by being a model soldier. But if I accounted for a third party, which in this case is the enemy, then it would only make sense to utilize an ever-increasing amount of resources to kill me. Which they did. Of course, I understood this idea on an instinctual level; I just never thought being too successful would become an issue for me. After all, I've never possessed the genius my colleagues had to attain such a success. Indeed, there must be other cream-of-the-crop mages at least a step below or up to my calibre? The idea itself is repulsive to a diligent member of society like me, not too mention arrogant. The Empire's success didn't hinge on a single Kampfgruppe's performance, but the overall quality and quantity of its human and material resources. Just killing me wouldn't solve the strategic issues the Empire's enemies had, though they had certainly acted like it would. The thought is an excuse to be fine with mediocrity, that personal success is something to be avoided. 

Perhaps the real issue was my naivete? No, that's not the right word, maybe obedience? Yes, obedience. I should've taken Zettour's removal as caused by irrationality taking hold of Supreme Command and jump ship. No wonder why the fortress crumbled; it was destroyed from the inside. Yet despite it, I acted according to my station and followed orders. 

Maybe all my issues began when I joined the military in the first place; I guess Ugar may have a point after all. I can go on and on reflecting on what caused my death-

"Have you already forgotten?"

-but there is always too little time. I had hoped my next reincarnation would go about with minimal gloating from Being X, but it seemed to be wishful thinking. 

"There will be no more reincarnations; your soul will begin anew."

Ah, right...He did say that, didn't he? Declared my second life to be the last one, before letting that train kill me. I should chide myself for being forgetful, but it would not make a difference. My last mistake, before my next  _ true  _ rebirth. It's a deplorable state of affairs, but so be it, I die a rational human being.

"Even now, your faith has not awakened." Being X sounds resigned, lacking the fury he possessed during our first meeting.

I want to tear him a new one for thinking I had an ounce of faith after all that had happened, but I'm too tired. A lifetime of war had been quite taxing, and I find it difficult to muster any amount of anger. It would be very unproductive of me.

"Yet you still cling to your faithlessness, twisted creature."

That's because faith is the denial of empirical evidence and reason and the acceptance of ignorance. The very thing a healthy modern state strives to fight against to continually improve its citizen's life. Thus, why would I worship a being that benefits from stagnating humanity's progress? Besides, after everything the war threw at me, there was no need to "repent," as you call it.

"But there was! The relic was made to save you. Had you embraced it and spoke words of prayer, you could've ended the war on your own terms!"

My own terms? With that cheat orb of yours? Don't be ridiculous. Suffering complete mental contamination is tantamount to slavery. As a modern man, self-determination holds a special place in my heart, and though my life didn't end satisfyingly for the second time, I can at least be proud of how far I'd come with what I had. I mean, its the only thing I could do while I wait for Being X send my soul to...somewhere.

"Whatever, we will never find common ground in this matter. Just do your thing with my soul; I'm ready," I say, already accepting the current circumstance.

Being X stiffens as an awkward silence takes hold. It goes on for some time as I tap my foot impatiently. I guess managing souls must take a lot of effort and consideration if he's taking so long with mine. It's no wonder why he's having difficulty with seven billion other souls; market demands must've surpassed his production rate a long time ago. 

My ruminations are interrupted by a snap of his fingers. It was only after the snap that I realized Being X was not resigned at all but was holding a lot of repressed anger. He always was the vindictive sort and a liar.

I know this because he had sent me to hell.

** 139.M41 **

** Gothic Sector **

Elysium is one of the few worlds that enjoy relative peace in a sector plagued by Aeldari Corsairs and Ork pirates. Its snow-covered cities have thrived under the Emperor's light and the protection of the ever-vigilant navy stationed in Port Maw. The lack of constant piratical incursions allows the planetary government to funnel its resources to other endeavours than just its PDF. Endeavours that benefit the entire sector, such as manufacturing a special kind of human resource: leaders.

Officers, Captains, Commissars, Governors, Arbites; they are the sought-after products of Elysium's Schola Progenium. The abbots supervise their Progena's journey on the conveyor belt of education, refining orphans into valuable, skilled servants of the Emperor. Progena who do not meet the Schola's standards, are  _ eliminated. _ After all, one must remove each batch's defects before distribution. And the Imperium cannot afford to have incompetents taking the helm.

Thus, the Elysium abbots fulfil their duty with utmost dedication and thoroughness. Today they discuss the progress of the latest batch, debating which progena should specialize in what. Inevitably, the meeting turned into a shouting match as the abbots try to poach the star students into their respective courses. 

Luthor is one of the abbots present in the meeting, though he doesn't involve himself in his colleagues' petty arguments. Being a former Inquisitorial Stormtrooper meant that his ties to the Inquisition allowed him to "induct" any of the progena with impunity. Currently, there was a heated argument between the teaching Commissar and Sister of Battle abbots involving a student. One named: Tanya Deguyatrov.

The name rang a bell in Luthor's head, as he fetched a data slate and read through the roster. After a while, he finds Tanya's file and examines it.

_ Female _

_ 11 standard years old. _

_ High Competency Ratings. _

_ Perfect disciplinary record. _

Abbot Comments: 

_ Commissar Kade: Possesses perfect obedience and instils discipline effectively to peers. Perceptive enough to grasp intent of orders. Shows the capability to take the initiative. This initiative could make her a boon or a massive detriment to a superior officer. Needs careful growth and monitoring. _

_ Sister Maren: Shows perfect devotion to the Emperor and a studious learner of the Creed. A skilled orator, able to raise morale and focus. She displays an excellent battle-spirit, weapon discipline and aim. The Emperor has gifted us a prodigy. _

===-[Your Eyes Only]-===

_ Kommandant's Recommendation: Tempestus Scion.  _

The comments in her file were impressive. She was such an exemplary student that her specialization has already been decided by the Kommandant. This privilege is reserved for three students of her batch, in which she is one of them. Thus, it is a unique affair considering that she has yet to experience her Trials of Compliance. A testament to the girl's talent since the Kommandant believes she has the skill and discipline needed for a Storm Trooper. 

An assessment Luthor himself would agree with if it weren't for one thing. Having served an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, he had seen his master's work first hand. Luthor had been present in the interrogations, investigations, and executions conducted by the Inquisitor while learning their inner workings, their methodology. The Storm Trooper had come away from his service learning many things. Though the most important lesson of all was how one can spot a liar. 

He certainly wasn't as good as the Inquisitor he served under, but Luthor learned enough to be at least better than average. And his senses, honed by decades of hunting down traitors, say that Tanya Deguytrov wears a mask and wears it well. But there are cracks in this facade, where disgust and contempt would seep out like an ugly puss. Her eyes would get sharper than usual, her forehead would crease ever so slightly; sometimes, she could be seen gritting her teeth without an exact cause. 

Perhaps this disgust is towards her many peers, slow and lacking wit when compared to her. Maybe this frustration is directed towards one of the abbots, which Luthor can't really blame her for. They make for horrible company. Whichever the case, this is something he needs to interrogate the student on, for the fear that she holds truly seditious thoughts.

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Snippet

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** 142.M41 **

** Ornsworld **

The Imperium's regime holds sway over its world through its religion, the Imperial Creed. Through the Adeptus Ministorum, priests of the Imperial Cult spread the holy word of the God-Emperor all across the galaxy. From death worlds to the Imperium's fringes, they preach their god's veneration. Not even battlefields are excluded from their presence. 

I am told that the priest attached to my regiment is meant to strengthen morale, like a commissar but less tactically-minded. I am told that their authority only involves the preaching of verses and nothing more. So I was told.

I did not know that a priest could execute any of the soldiers on a whim. 

For an army to be effective, it must not be interfered by its nation's politics or religion. In reality, practising this ideal is difficult; war is inherently a political process, a form of diplomacy. But that does not mean this ideal should not be strived for. Instead, the Imperium throws this out the window and allows the army to be beholden to more than one political authority. Segmentum command's orders can be overturned by Inquisitors like Horst, who had personally ordered our regiment to guard a temple in Ornsworld rather than stay at the front. 

Scenarios like this are what leads to conflicting orders and objectives, which can paralyze a regiment. This is not how an army should conduct a war. But the Imperium does it anyway, wasting its vast resources inefficiently until the issue goes away. They're much more inefficient than the commies themselves.

Which is why I'm here, surrounded by praying guardsmen, standing next to a pyre. Morale had been tanking recently; last night's massacre had only worsened it. I was one of the lucky few to come out unscathed, so was my squadmate. Unfortunately, she had turned catatonic after our squad's death and became the target of a witch-hunt. Her catatonia was believed to be the result of Chaotic influence, which lead her here, on the burning pyre.

_ Shame, she would've made for a good adjutant _ .

"Are you saluting a heretic guardsman!" 

"I was not, Father Abrariel. The flame took the shape of an Aquila for a brief moment. I had to salute it." The other guardsmen, who were looking down in prayer, turned towards me with wide eyes. The priest, on the other hand, looked to be the happiest man on this planet. Lying, it seemed, is made easy around superstitious folk.

"Then it is a sign of divine providence! The Emperor watches over us all!"

"The Emperor protects!" we all shout.

_ What a shitshow. _


End file.
